Of Course
by knowhere
Summary: Literati. He can’t seem to say anything right this morning. AU.


**Of Course**

Author: Knowhere

Rating: Pg-13

Disclaimer: Nothing.

AN: A semi-companion to Plans? Possible.

Summary: Literati. He can't seem to say anything right this morning. AU.

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The bathroom is hot and steamy as I step out of the shower. Wiping the mirror with a flat palm, I survey my reflection. My eyes are a little tired, but other than that I look pretty much the same. Quickly wrapping a clean towel around my waist, I open the door. My head cocks to the side as I notice her lying on the bed, hair fanned out on both our pillows, hands resting gently on her abdomen. "Something terribly interesting on our ceiling?" I tease.

She doesn't even bother turning her head. "Yeah. I'm trying to see our future. It's all in the ceiling."

"Isn't that the stars?"

She shrugs. "Yeah but I can't see the stars right now. First of all, it's seven o'clock in the morning, and second of all, there's no retractable ceiling. So I'm stuck with predicting our future in plaster."

I nod, barely following her quirky train of thought. "Huh. Tell me if there's anything good." I rifle through our dresser, looking for a fresh pair of boxers.

"Will do."

Slipping on my plain grey ones, I grab my pants from the hanger. Walking casually over to the bed, I button and zip. "You gonna get out of bed today?"

Finally turning to me, she makes a face. "Debating." She sighs.

Cocking my head to the side, I catch her release of breath. There's something laced below the simple noise. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing."

Resting one bent knee on the bed, I raise my eyebrow. "Liar."

She sighs again and rolls onto her side. Her hair shifts and I smile seeing the slight waves. "I'm…" She chews her lower lip.

Patiently, "You're what?"

She takes a deep breath. "I'm getting fat!" Uttering a noise of disgust, she rolls onto her stomach and buries her face into my pillow.

Getting fully onto the bed, I rub her shoulders and let my hand wander below her tank top to brush the skin of her lower back. "Hey. It's okay."

She makes another noise that's muffled by my pillow. Peeking around, big blue eyes accuse me. "Now who's the liar?"

I smile sympathetically. "Come on, Rory. It's not the end of the world."

"Humph. That's what you think!"

"Rory, seriously." I bend down to kiss her shoulder. "You're not fat." I whisper into her ear.

Frustrated, and therefore unwilling to be comforted, she swats me away. "Just go to work." I refuse to move and she flops on her back. "Go away." She pouts.

"The role of 'Concerned Husband' forbids me to do that."

She squints and makes another childish face. "Argh! Just let me wallow alone in my misery."

I chuckle silently. "You're not alone."

Narrowing her eyes, "That's right. This is your fault!"

"My fault?"

"Yes!"

"I hardly think this is a situation to be placing blame."

"Whatever. Just go, will ya?"

I run my hand through her hair, a feeble attempt to soothe her. "Cheer up."

"You can't take a hint, can you?" She mumbles and throws back the covers. Standing, she slips on my old sweatshirt and begins to gather her hair into a high ponytail. Passing our mirrored closet, she stops and turns. "Just admit it. I'm fat."

Rolling my eyes, I flop onto the bed, flat on my back. Halfheartedly, I reply. "Of course you're getting bigger."

I'm met with utter silence and I wince knowing I've said the worst possible thing. Leaning up on my elbows, I see her standing with her hands hanging at her sides, mouth agape. "_What_ did you just say?"

"Um…"

She's biting her lip and to my horror, tears are slipping down her cheeks. "Yeah…that's what I thought."

Quickly getting to my feet, I reach out to touch her. Recoiling as if I've burned her, she retreats into the bathroom, slamming the door as she gets in. Face to face with a closed door, I lean my arms against the frame. Knocking with my voice gentle, I try to amend the situation. "Rory? Come on out. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

"Go away."

"I didn't mean it."

"I said go away!"

"Come on…we're not seriously fighting because of this, are we?"

"We _so_ are!"

Shaking my head, I can't believe I got myself into this situation. "I just meant…"

"I know what you just meant." Her emotions are fluctuating like crazy.

Ignoring her last comment, I try again. "I just meant that of course you're getting bigger—"

She cuts me off. "You're saying it _again_?!"

"Rory. If you could just let me finish. I was saying that of course you're bigger. It's expected."

"No, it's not."

Gently, "I'm pretty sure it is."

"You don't know anything about this!"

I chuckle. "I'm pretty sure you're supposed to get bigger. Even though I might have ditched school a lot, I know _that_. You're pregnant for god's sake."

The door swings open to my surprise revealing a thunderous face. "I know I'm pregnant. Something, by the way, that's your fault."

Innocently, "How is that my fault?"

"You put it there!"

Smirking, "I have a clear recollection of you being there too. And no complaints from you at that time."

Scowling, she doesn't take my bait to lighten the situation. "You! You lured me with your sex and then impregnated me."

"I lured you?" I pause and give her my puppy-dog face. "You can't really be mad at me for that, can you?"

Her façade begins to crumble and her anger is softening. "I'm _still_ fat."

Taking her into my arms, I rest my chin on her head. "But with good reason."

Mumbling into my chest, "Stop making sense."

I smirk. "Someone has to make sense."

Pulling back, she looks up at me. "Are you implying that I _don't_?"

Sheepish, "No?"

"Is that a question?"  
Again, "No?"

Rolling her eyes at me, she snuggles into my body. "Am I still pretty?"

"Hey now. You can't ask me something like that. If I tell you yes, you'll think I'm lying 'cause for some inane reason you think you're fat. And if I say no, I'd really would be lying because I don't think you've ever looked more beautiful."

She stays quiet.

Hugging her closer, I sway us gently. "You okay?"

For a couple minutes, she still remains silent. Suddenly, she looks up and her features brighten. "Just admit that you're responsible for this and I'll feel better."

"Fine." I smirk. "I gave in that one day when you were all hot and literally asking for sex when I came home. And yes, I impregnated you and thus resulting in your current situation."

She nods. "That's right."

"You're crazy." I mutter affectionately.

"Of course." She smiles. "I have every right to be. I'm pregnant."

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**AN:** Please Review.


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